


War Wounds

by MidnightMoonCat



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMoonCat/pseuds/MidnightMoonCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in what might as well have been a frozen tomb, sole survivor Ryan Carter was helpless as those he had sworn to protect were killed or taken. The scars left on the outside were only a pale reflection of those within, and the weight of his guilt at surviving felt like it might one day crush his heart and soul. So much death and destruction. And that was his life before the bombs fell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Wounds

_Darkness… suffocating darkness. Filled only with gunfire and screams. They were dying all around him and he couldn’t see them, couldn’t protect them, couldn’t save them. A crushing weight on his chest… pressing his body down even as his head seemed to float from the blood loss. And when the last of them fell, he was left with only deafening silence... silence and the suffocating darkness._

Ryan’s eyes snapped open. _It was just a dream._ His counselor had said repeating that phrase would help. Would make the nightmares easier to handle. _Maybe one day it’ll even be true._ Unclenching his hand from the blankets, he forced his breathing to slow to a measured pace. When the tightness in his chest finally eased, he slipped from the warmth of the bed. Late October temperatures quickly succeeded in finishing what the adrenaline surge from his waking moments had started. _No way I’m getting back to sleep this morning._

The first rays of pre-dawn light filtered through the bedroom windows, illuminating the form of his still sleeping wife. His gaze softened as he watched Nora for a few moments. The knowledge that she and their infant son, Shaun, were safe did more to drive back the dreams than any repeated mantras. A dark blue robe and lined slippers grabbed from the closet would be enough, he hoped, to fend off the crisp air until he could get dressed properly.

As he passed the bathroom on the way to the kitchen, his footsteps faltered. _It was right there in the medicine cabinet._ A slight tremor shook his arms and he couldn’t help but rub his left hand down the other arm. The robe was thick enough to cover the scars, but he knew they were there and why. His breath sped up as the darkness started to close in once more.

“Mister Ryan?” Codsworth’s calming voice floated to him from the kitchen, halting the silence in his head that was starting to take hold. Not for the first time, Ryan wondered if there was something special in this Mr. Handy unit’s programming that let him know when Ryan was in trouble. Perhaps it was just that Codsworth was one of the few in Sanctuary Hills who actually knew the full truth, or perhaps, it was just that special sense one develops around close friends and family.

After just a few weeks of seeing Nora struggle to help him while she was pregnant with Shaun, the decision to buy Codsworth had been an easy one, but Ryan had been hesitant at first about sharing what he considered very personal information with a machine. He and Nora had had a long discussion about it and, as usual when trying to debate anything with his brilliant lawyer wife, Ryan ended up convinced she was right. She did, however, leave the timing of the discussion up to him.

It ended up becoming part of a late night talk between man and machine a couple of weeks after Codsworth joined them. Ryan had slouched in his favorite chair in the dimly lit living room, and began speaking, eventually spilling out more secrets to the metal butler than he had to the military counselor the service asked him to see. As Codsworth had floated sedately nearby listening to him ramble, it was the first time Ryan actually noticed that the low humming sound of the hover engine created a kind of gentle white noise that helped keep the silence at bay. Given Ryan’s difficulties sleeping, their late night talks had become a regular occurrence over the months that followed.

It also helped that the robot’s hover jet cast a warm glow in the darkness, and today, that soft light drew Ryan’s gaze first, and then finally his steps, towards the kitchen. A happy sigh escaped his lips when he noticed a coffee cup sitting on the closer end of the bar separating the kitchen and the living room, the contents gently wafting steam.

“I took the liberty of preparing your morning coffee a little earlier than usual today. There are clean clothes on the dryer so you needn't wake the missus.” Lifting a small skillet in his metal appendage, the robot’s three eyestalks swiveled to focus on Ryan. “Would you like breakfast before or after your exercises, sir?”

“After, if you don’t mind. I’d rather have breakfast with Nora when she wakes up.”

“Of course, sir.” Codsworth had no mouth to smile with, but judging from his happy tone of voice, Ryan’s answer had filled his robotic brain with thoughts of a romantic breakfast followed by a happy, peaceful day.

If only reality had been that generous.

\------

 _Was this all even real?_ The thought kept echoing through his mind. Part of him wanted desperately to believe that somehow his doctor had switched his last prescription with some Daddy-O and this was all a terrible hallucination that he would wake up from at any moment. He wanted be at home in Sanctuary with Nora and Shaun. But inside, he knew the terrible truth. _They had really done it._

Still, the giant bugs in the vault would have been right at home in one of his nightmares. _Ugh… roaches._ One of the few good things about his time in Alaska was that the cold was great at keeping the bug population to a minimum. On the other hand, those giant rat-things that had attacked him outside the Red Rocket were nothing he would have imagined on his own. If the dog hadn’t been there to help him, he might well have joined Nora before the sun set on his first day. With all his years of service in the Army, the thought of not being able to hit some giant fucking rats was damned embarrassing, no matter how bad his injuries had been before he was put on ice.

Technically, he had been back from Alaska for a little over a year before the world burned in a blinding flash of atomic radiation. One month in the hospital and three separate surgeries, all to try and save his right arm. Once they finally let him return home, half of his days were spent in physical therapy, but he had refused to pick-up a weapon until the trees had started changing color in early September. Part of his avoidance came from the way his arm and shoulder ached after doing any repetitive motion with his hand. He knew that a few hours on the gun range would put him in a world of pain the next day. But the other part was fear. What would happen if he had a weapon in hand and the memories were too strong? Would he even be able to live with himself if he hurt Nora or Shaun? In the end, it hadn’t really mattered. Nora had died less than 10 feet away and he was helpless to save her.

A low whine pulled Ryan’s attention back from the pain and guilt before it could overwhelm him. With a gentle pat on the dog’s head and a nod of thanks, he stood and quickly finished packing what meager supplies he found in the abandoned house into a faded backpack. The clock on the pip-boy showed 3:00 p.m. and judging from the angle of the sun when he stepped out onto the porch, that was about right. If the calendar was also right, it was October 23. Ironically, the same day of the year as when he entered the vault. Sunset should be around six, so he had maybe three hours of light left.

He was considering heading back into the house and trying to set up a barricade at the top of the stairs that might give him some safety during the night when he heard a familiar sound from farther south in Concord. _His imagination?_ He let go of that idea when he heard a sound coming from the dog at his side. The German Shepard moved down the stairs and onto the cracked pavement of the old road before looking back at Ryan. Another sad whine was more than enough to get the man moving, the pistol from the overseer’s office gripped awkwardly in his left hand. When another shot rang out over the rooftops, a shiver ran down his spine, like a final lingering chill from the vault. Trying his best to ignore the sense of foreboding, the two weary travelers picked up their pace and headed further into Concord.


End file.
